


if this letter speed

by ERNest



Category: King Lear - Shakespeare
Genre: Based on the 2019 National Theater Live production, Determination, Gen, Introspection, Regret, Shady Orders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:22:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29951973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ERNest/pseuds/ERNest
Summary: Edmund's invention has thrived and now, almost at the top, he once more holds a fate on a piece of paper. He doesn't have to hand the order over. Edmund in the beginning of 5.3.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	if this letter speed

He doesn't have to kill them. He can let the Duke of Albany keep his moment of mercy if he wants it so badly, and simply let this order continue to burn a hole in his pocket straight through to his heart. He could let the youngest princess keep that expression of joy and relief when he took the bag from her head and she saw her father there to catch her. What should be the harm in letting _one_ member of this lonely generation find happiness?

But then the king starts speaking. He may have given away his crown once, paring down both sides and leaving nothing in the middle, but it is clear that he still wears it in his voice -- somehow even _more_ so when it trembles. He declares himself one of God's spies, and a lifetime of faith and devotion compels the soldiers under Edmund's command to lift their hands to acknowledge Lear.

_This_ would be the harm; there is nothing more dangerous to his position than a monarch reinstated. This man's quiet air of dignity cannot last, and his time to rule has ended. Edmund, seemingly the only one immune to that spell, breaks it. He hauls the man nearest him to his feet, telling him once more to "Take them away!"

And once he's sure they've both been scared straight and know to whom they owe their duty, he turns his back on this scene of something he can never have.

He does not have to listen to these words, and in fact he probably shouldn't if he wants to hold to his purpose. Instead, Edmund reviews his own words to make sure there is no room for errors to slip through. Satisfied, he returns the notepad to his pocket, and waits until his captives are pulled away. Checking the page once more before he rips it out, he beckons the captain over.

The man hesitates. Edmund can't say he doesn't know why; it's no easy task to make someone's taking off appear their own fault, and harder still if the heart is not in it. But they are both swords and he reminds the captain of this fact, first with smiles, then with a congenial fist on his chest, and finally with the unmistakable threat of cold metal against the side of his head.

"If it be man's work," he says, in a tone that isn't at all sure it is, "I'll do it." But Edmund doesn't need him to feel good about the task he's been given, not when he's already certain that he's made his point and the task will be carried out.

Their fate is out of his hands now that he’s pushed it into someone else’s. He would have expected it to be more of a relief, tying up loose ends that would only drag him down if left unattended. He could have been crueler than he is; separated the pair as the father feared he would, and let them die alone and afraid and never knowing what had become of the other. He _could_ have, and he has no idea why it makes him feel better to remember that he didn’t.

Relief or not, he can sell his choice to reserve their judgment to a fitter place with confidence, at least for long enough to delay Albany’s discovery of what he’s had done. Never mind that even out of his hands, the orders he’s given still burn a hole to his heart.


End file.
